The jealous type
by AirborneGirl
Summary: You always knew you were geoing to lose him, but you never figured it would be to another woman. Maybe it's time for you to think of moving on...


**The jealous type**

**AN**: Just something I cooked up during this rainy afternoon. Set after episode "Red Letter". Hope you like it. Since you all seem to like the POV I use in "Locked in Love", this is written the same way.

**Disclaimer**: If a ditz like Katherine Frye can have him, then so can I…yeah…right. Oh well.

Funny. You always knew he was going to get you fired. You told him you were prepared for that when the two of you were locked up inside of a shipping crate several months before. He hadn't replied, which to you was an indication he knew it too, but was not particularly willing to prove you wrong.

Sure, it had hurt, but you were prepared for that.

In the end, you weren't. For now the fateful day has come upon you, the day where you are standing in front of Madeleine Hightower's desk, handing in your letter of resignation after over ten years of satisfactory service.

You've been tossing and turning all night, dreading this very moment while at the same time knowing it had to be done.

Your boss takes the letter with eyebrows frowned, and kindly asks you to take a seat.

"I must say, Teresa, this comes as a surprise. Correct me if I'm wrong, but your team is doing very well and even Jane seems to be behaving ever since he's been seeing miss Frye. Are you one hundred percent sure this is what you want?"

Try as she might, you cannot hide the shadow crossing your face as the other woman mentions Patrick's…eh…girlfriend.

You haven't seen it coming, were not prepared for that and maybe that's why it hurt more than any other scenario running randomly through your mind.

You have always figured you would lose Jane one way or another. Lose him to Red John. Your dreams have shown you vivid images of your golden haired consultant holding a smoking gun while staring down on a motionless bleeding body on the floor. Your dream alter ego would silently choke back the tears threatening to fall while taking out the handcuffs and reading the man she loves his Miranda rights.

Your dreams sometimes take you all the way through the trail, where an emotionally rigid Patrick Jane pleads guilty, not once looking at you during the process and basically not caring what happens to him after the jury presents its verdict, probably sending him either to jail or some kind of medical institution for the rest of his life.

Heck, at least you can visit him, if you feel masochistic enough.

Another 'favorite' is the total gunning down of both of them, which means that the last time you get see him, he will be ready for his funeral. Sometimes, he will die in your arms, telling you not to feel sorry for him, that he was never worthy of your ever growing feelings of affection. In those dreams, tears are flowing freely and you usually find your pillow soaked by the time you wake up.

Still…no matter how crappy those dreams are, you have come to terms with them, basically getting through each and every day by taking whatever small gift he bestows upon you, whether it's just a smile or a cup of coffee or an origami creature. He is safe during those days. Safe…and at least in your self-directed daydreams, a little bit yours.

The mentioning of another woman's name has carelessly crumpled even that last vestige inside your heart.

You can understand,as you always have, the invisible link he will always have with his family. For the rest of his life, he'll be someone's husband, someone's father and you never begrudged him that. Besides for a picture you caught a glimpse of on several occasions, his wife and daughter do not have a name or face to them and you have never been witness to the force of Patrick Jane being a loving family man.

With all your heart you crave to bear witness to that, but of course in those wishes, you've been the one to play the exclusive part of his love-interest. It has never, ever crossed your mind that another woman would audition for that part and would get it too. In none of your fantasies did you picture yourself on the outside looking in, watching how Kristina Frye effortlessly took what you have selfishly, foolishly labeled as yours.

All this time, Hightower remains silent, but she is no fool.

"You know what, Teresa? I'll put this letter in my desk and give you a week to make up your mind. If you come here next week and still want to go through with this, I'll send your letter to personnel management and we'll talk about options for a transfer. But to be honest, I don't want to lose you and I don't think your team wants to either. Least of all Jane."

Ignoring the chilling running down your spine at that last addition, you thank Hightower and leave the office with your head\held high, heading straight for your own cubicle, your sanctuary and, hopefully, some rest before the other team members are coming in.

It was not meant to be. Not even five minutes later, Grace Van Pelt comes in to ask for your permission to dig up some reports she wants to check and then, about fifteen minutes after you dropped the proverbial bomb on Hightower, the object of all your dreams saunters in like he owns the place and closes the door behind him.

Frozen in your seat, you cannot, will not look him in the eye, afraid to see happiness written all over his face. It's a selfish thought of course, but if you didn't contribute to that happiness, you don't want to share in it either, even though you've been praying for it every day since you've come to the startling realization you have fallen in love with him.

"Teresa, look at me."

Like a petulant child, you shake your head.

"You're acting like a child, agent Lisbon."

"Takes one to know one."

Your snappish answer doesn't deter him. Instead, he none too gentle puts his hand underneath your chin to lift it up, forcing your eyes to meet his.

The first thing you reluctantly notice is that if this is a happy look, you never want to see anyone happy again. This is a look which screams confusion, defeat and not a little bit of anger, all solely directed at you.

"We are going to talk about this, Lisbon, whether you like it or not. Now tell me, why was I just called into Hightower's office for something I supposedly have done that makes you want to leave CBI without even trying to resolve it like adults do?"

"And since when do we ever talk like adults?"

He sighs dramatically.

"Since it's about time we did. Now, let me ask you again, what did I do his time that is too unmentionable for you?"

"If it's unmentionable, I guess you'll never know."

His hand slams the table so hard it makes you jump. His normally vibrant turquoise eyes are clouded over with rage.

"Damn it, Teresa. I don't care what I have to do, but I swear to you, before this day is over, you will tell me what has gotten into that mind of yours!"

Well, if he thinks he's the only one who can get pissed off, he's got another thing coming! Standing up to your full height of 5'4" you ask him the one question you want, need to get an answer to.

"Why do you care so much, all of a sudden?"

"I always cared!"

"Sure you did. You never did and still don't. Not for your own life, not for mine, not for anyone in this team. We're a means to an end for you, never anything more."

He opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off, too upset with him to stop, but too tired to continue screaming. Unable to suppress it, you allow the fatigue, the helplessness to seep into your softly spoken words.

"Patrick, don't deny it, don't lie to me for once. You don't care for the team."

"And with the team, you mean yourself."

Damn him!

"I meant the team as a whole, which includes myself, for now anyway."

You turn away from him, angrily wiping the tears away, not wanting to showcase your vulnerability to the one who is the main cause of it. You gasped audibly when a moment later, you feel two strong arms wrap themselves around your shoulders, immediately deflating all left over anxiety, leaving you bone-tired and sad.

So this was the way you were going to end your non-existent relationship with him. With a screaming match in your office.

"I do care for you Teresa. A lot. Forgive me, but I though you knew that."

He grabs your shoulders more firmly and turns you around in his arms, again forcing you to look at him.

"Teresa, is this about Kristina?"

Sigh. You should have known he would figure it out. Or maybe, the other woman has. Dear Lord, how awful that sounds, even in your own ears. The other woman.

A warm smile spreads across his handsome features as he draws you in for a hug. His words wash over you like a cleansing shower, making you feel very foolish and ashamed of yourself.

"It is, isn't it? You are willing to give up your job, which you love, because you're jealous of my supposed relationship with another woman. I'm touched, sweetheart, but did you ever stop to think what that relationship is all about?"

What on earth does he mean by that?

"You think I'm sleeping with her, right?"

Your blush obviously says it all. His laughter, even when it's directed at you, warms your core and his words finish it off.

"We're not, Teresa. Not that it would be any of your business if we were, but I'm not involved with her in that way. She's not my type. I just like her as a sparring partner, she sharpens my mind, hones my skills, but there's nothing there between us that binds me to her in the long run. She knows that too."

Perhaps your sigh of relief is a tad over dramatic, but you don't care. You don't have to quit your beloved job, you don't have anything to be jealous about. Patrick hasn't chosen anyone else over you. For now.

No, no, don't go there, Lisbon.

He chuckles and the rumbling of his chest against yours sends the good kind of shivers down your spine.

"Teresa, sweetheart, I promise you, when I'm ready to date again, though that might take a while, I promise you'll totally agree with the lady of my choice."

What? He grins and with a kiss, wipes away the crease on your forehead.

"You see, I got my eyes on this one particular lady. She's this petite, feisty creature, with beautiful green eyes and soft dark hair. She's also very protective of the people she loves and she has a very big, forgiving heart. I think you'll like her."

You smile at him, trying to get your head wrapped around the idea that you can and might someday will make the biggest contribution to both your happiness and his.

"I guess I'll step into Hightower's office and tell her to shred my letter of resignation then."

"You don't have to. I already did. I knew you wouldn't be leaving if I could get a chance to tell you about my true love interest."

"Right. She sounds just lovely. Though I have to warn you about her…"

"About what?"

"She's the jealous type."

THE END


End file.
